The Awry Summoning
by Kishoto
Summary: When the League is betrayed by one of its own, the results will have consequences far beyond Runeterra...
1. The Fall of Ashram

Introduction: The Fall of Ashram

"It's decided. The final allegiance of the border town of Cylica will hinge upon this match. The victors will claim both Cylica as a subsidiary of its nation, and the land that sits in a 3 mile radius from the edges of the town. Representing Noxus, we have Quint Overseer."

Five figures in purple robes stepped forward, forming a polygonal shape over the platform. Holding their hands out, they all chanted momentarily, each forming an identical transparent bubble of arcane magicks in their hands as the platform glowed softly with white light, casting strange shadows throughout the sealed stone room.

"And representing Ionia, we have Quint Farcry."

In an identical sealed room, five figures in blue robes took up their positions around their platform. One stumbled a bit in getting in position but quickly righted himself, his fellow summoners giving him annoyed looks at his lack of decorum. Holding out their hands, they too formed transparent orbs. The platform lit up, its brilliance highlighting, for a brief moment, the face of the clumsy summoner. Bearing a regal appearance, enhanced by his fair, ice blue eyes and aristocratic facial structure, the summoner was clearly nervous, his eyes roaming and his teeth worrying at his lower lip.

"Calm yourself Gamma, you are well prepared for this moment." Said another of the purple robed figures, the voice identifying this figure as a female. Another summoner nodded.

"Besides, you have to get your feet wet sometime. Be glad that both Alpha and Kappa were otherwise occupied. Most are not so fortunate as to have their first foray into the Diplomatic Draft be an issue as important as this. Ha! Why, I remember my first diplomatic draft match. A Demacian noble's son had went out hunting, and got himself gored by a stag from the Howling Marsh. The noble raised hell over it, citing the lack of regulation of the various creatures of that place. The League placated him by having a few of us fight at Twisted Treeline, with Karthus leading the charge. If he lost, he was to be executed. Which he was. Only to return, angrier than I've ever seen, a month later, freshly resurrected by the Hidden Marsh." The circle laughed as one, an eerie cacophony of wavering pitch and volume, bounced around by the stones.

"Executing the Deathsinger. The epitome of pointless action. Why they were…" The conversation halted instantly as the white light below the platform, started thrumming, indicating its connection to the Mediator.

"Both Quints are in position, queued for battle. Is the Adjudicator primed?" A middle aged man, with spectacles perched on his crooked nose and a parchment and quill clutched in his hands, closed his eyes and when he opened them, they shone with a pale light. He nodded at the Mediator who nodded back. "Witness locked. Siphon, engaging."

Forming his hands into a seal, he chanted in a low tone. As he chanted, runes beneath his feet started lighting up, softly at first, then growing brighter with each passing second. He extended his arms to either side, a sphere within each hand. One pulsed lilac while another thrummed cerulean. He let his hands fall onto two nexus' that were set up on either side of him.

Gamma gasped as his team's spheres grew opaque, indicating they were to commence with the summoning. He swallowed but focused his magic, calling forth his champion. As his presence and consciousness melded with the champion, he heard a voice

'_Noobie huh? Don't worry. I'll handle it._' He felt the champion's confidence radiate upward, bolstering his shaky resolve and causing him to subtly straighten.

The Mediator sent out his mind through his connection to the summoners and, by proxy, their champions. As he prepared to start, he heard a door open behind him. Turning, he saw Lord Summoner Heywan Relivash. Narrowing his eyes, the Adjudicator said

"Despite your status, Summoner Relivash, intruding at this time is most unwise. We cannot afford to have any undue magical disturbance within this space during the summoning. Surely you are aware—"

"I am perfectly aware of the risks associated with my presence and I assure you, precautions have been taken, Adjudicator. Now, proceed. Act as if I am not present." As they were already under way, the match could not be stopped to address the intrusion. With a twist to his lips, the witness again focused on the match and its summoning, which was now under way. The Mediator closed his eyes as he felt the arcane connections flow through him. The light from the nexuses grew brighter as each summoner sent forth their avatar into the Fields of Justice.

Relivash smirked as the Mediator and Adjudicator became absorbed in focusing on the summoning. As the light in the nexuses reached its peak. Relivash moved. With speed that would impress the Wuju Blademaster himself, Relivash drew a runic dagger from his robes, stabbing the Adjudicator through the back. He gasped as blood drained down his front and the magical light left his eyes, closely followed by the natural light of human life. He fell forward, the dark blade thrumming in time to the failing heart beat of the Adjudicator. The Mediator opened his eyes, still focusing on the summoning, despite the bleeding body before him on the floor.

"Your time has come, Ashram." Stated Relivash, as he walked towards the High Councilor. Ashram's expression was stony, but his mind was working furiously, trying to figure out a solution to this most unexpected disturbance. It was a credit to his mental fortitude that he was still within control of the various magicks flowing through his being. As the Siphon, he was the key to the entire summoning. He was responsible for directing and focusing the various essences of twenty different beings, for ensuring that the champions found themselves on the Fields of Justice safely and that their connections to their summoners remain unfiltered and separate. And Relivash had picked the most delicate part of the summoning to stage this unsightly disturbance.

The summoner in question chuckled as he stepped towards the High Councilor.

"Careful there, Ashram. A slight misjudgment and you'll kill us both, not to mention the unpredictable damage you'll wreak upon the summoners and champions involved."

They were both aware of this, but Relivash said this regardless, enjoying that Ashram was in such a vulnerable position. Ashram's mind still toiled behind his apathetic expression, but there was nothing to be done but complete the summoning. As long as he did that, he could disconnect from the nexuses without causing harm to anyone involved, although the summoners would all be abruptly removed from their connections to their champions, and a retrieval team would need to go to the physical location of the Fields of Justice to retrieve the ten unbound League warriors. He needed more time.

"Why do you do this Relivash? The League is founded on maintaining peace and order, and you've sworn yourself to the Summoner's Code to adhere to this. Killing an Adjudicator, intruding, without warning or permission, on the Mediator's Chambers, during a Diplomatic Draft match no less! What possible motivation could you have for endangering the twenty one individuals involved in this and signing away your life?"

"You are a fool if you think my life ends here Ashram. Perhaps you are seeing your own future."

"To kill a summoner, let alone the High Councilor! You will not be forgiven for this act of treason Relivash. You will be stripped of all that you possess, and your body's remains scattered to the end of Valoran, never to find a peaceful rest. This I swear!"

Relivash chucked and stepped towards Ashram.

"It's a bit late for swearing, Ashram. This is bigger than you, or I, or even the League! You have no idea of what's coming. While we've been focusing on Valoran's earthly issues, repairing the injured pride of the host of independent sovereigns we have on this continent, and smoothing over political allegations, the effects of the Rune Wars have spread even farther, growing and multiplying as we speak, beyond the bounds of this simple mass of land we call our home. All of that unfettered magic can be put to great use, be it good or evil, while we sit here, twiddling our thumbs in the Institute of War! We do not have time for these petty squabbles, we need to band together as one, if we are to weather the coming storm. I have been stating this for months, yet no actions have been taken. Emissaries sent to Ionia, Noxus, Piltover and the other city states have all come back, to convey disregard at best, mocking at worst, if they come back at all! And even my fellow summoners are content; feeling as if the League has settled all of our problems. Well I tell you, when I am High Councilor, things will change. I am sorry, Ashram, this could have been prevented but both you, the League nay all of Valoran is responsible for the fate I prepare for you today. "

The High Councilor gritted his teeth as his grip on the magic of the summoning grew even more intense. It was approaching its final climax. The physical bodies of the summoners were on the battlefield, now the true delicate work, the reason a Mediator was needed, in case a summoner flagged or any other issues rose. The transference of the champions' soul, consciousness and magic to Summoner's Rift.

Relivash smiled as he saw the light from the nexuses grow even brighter and start pulsing in time to, what he knew to be, Ashram's heart rate. The final climax. This is what he'd been waiting for. Giving the High Councilor a grim smile he stated,

"I wish I could enlighten you further, but it appears it is time. Goodbye, High Councilor and know that your death will lead to a new era across Runeterra."

Relivash stepped back to the room's entrance, pulling a vial from his robes, grimacing as he did so, "To think, I'm about to sacrifice a year of my life in seven seconds. Alas, it cannot be helped."

He downed the potion in one swig. At first nothing happened but then Relivash grimaced even further and his body started vibrating, faster and faster, until it seemed as if he would come apart at the seams. Then it stopped.

Relivash disappeared as a gunshot was heard. The High Councilor watched the bullet come at him from thin air, after watching Relivash down a concoction that resembled the elixirs utilized on the Fields of Justice. He knew that mundane methods could not hurt him within this room, but he was positive Relivash had taken precautions with this particular bullet, as he sensed dark, twisted, heavily concentrated magic flowing through it. He watched the bullet come closer, and dared not move, hoping that the final climax concluded in time, pouring all of his being into accelerating the process. If he was to die, he would ensure that his fellow summoners and their champions did not perish as well.

The projectile entered the High Councilor's forehead, piercing through swiftly and cleanly but rather than passing through as other bullets would, it rested within the center of Ashram's head, reacting to the abundance of magic present. It absorbed this magic, twisting it and sealing it within itself, the internal pressure building until it released the built up magic, sending it through Ashram's being, sending out a pulse of energy that incinerated the body of the High Councilor.

The resulting backlash of so much magical interference ricocheted throughout the nexuses and, as a result, the summoning. The final climax was disrupted, jumbling the cacophony of souls and consciousness. For a time, it appeared as if it would progress as normal, to the Fields of Justice but after a struggle between the consciousness of the summoners and the wild nature of magic itself, the energies were redirected randomly, sent across the ethereal plane, acting as nature does, attracted to the closest point devoid of magic.

In the blue team's room, the light from the platform and the spheres suddenly started flickering chaotically, growing brighter and brighter, much brighter than normal. The gathered summoners opened their eyes after sensing the disturbance, only to close them in pain. They felt their magic being distorted and rent apart by the sudden chaos, and they all tried to reel themselves back in.

Gamma cried out as he felt his connection to his champion abruptly severed and his sphere shattered in his hands, sending him flying back off of the platform and onto the floor. The other summoners suffered a similar fate, although one was unlucky enough to be thrown into a pillar. They all looked at each other, mirrored looks of confusion on their faces, which dissolved into panic, as they thought about the implications of such a magical outpouring.

The Mediator's chamber was barren. The stone walls were tarnished, chipped and blackened, as if a bomb had gone off. The bodies of the Adjudicator and Reginald Ashram were no more. The only thing left was a pair of skeletal hands, still clutching either nexus, a testament to the High Councilor's commitment to his duty and his final act as a summoner.


	2. Time for a True Display of Skill!

Chapter 1: Time for a True Display of Skill!

"And so you differentiate the function, which gives us the slope, proving that it is indeed continuous. Any questions?"

Eric sighed as he stared at the blackboard, absently scratching at his black, spiky hair. Calculus. He hated Calculus. Although it wasn't really Calculus' fault. Calc was easy. He got straight A's in Calc. But then he got straight A's in everything. No, it was Geography's fault, in a roundabout way anyway. It was always after Calculus, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

You see, Eric loved Geography. Not like "Oh it's my favorite class" loved it. More like "I own a shelf filled with map work books at home, and know twice as much about this subject as the teacher." loved it. Despite this, he still loved the class, in all its inherent redundancy. He could never get enough of learning about the outside world, and couldn't wait to go and see it for himself.

'To think, only one more semester, and then I'm out of here. Who says you need 4 years to get a Bachelor's?' thought Eric, as he idly stared at the board.

Soon enough, the class ended and Eric left the lecture hall, briskly walking to the Kipling building. As he rounded the corner, he was blindsided as he felt a bursting pain in his chest. He gasped and fell to his knees, clawing at his jacket. Tearing it open, he looked down to find a blue light pulsating in his chest. It spread outward through the rest of his body, until centering around his left hand, where it started glowing even brighter.

The pain increased even more, but instead of being vague, internal pain, this was regular, ordinary pain. The pain of a burn. That's when Eric started screaming. It felt like someone was taking a red hot poker and jamming it into the back of his hand. He pulled his left hand into his body, cradling it, but this did nothing to dull the sensation. The smell of burning flesh lingered in the air, as Eric continued screaming. A crowd had gathered to watch him struggle, but none dare go close. A few pulled out cell phones, to call for help.

The pain reached its peak, and Eric screamed one last time as the light reached its zenith, before disappearing entirely. He lay on the ground, panting, seeing spots in his vision. These spots grew larger and larger, until Eric realized what was going on.

'Huh, so I guess you DO see spots when you start blacking out…stupid body. You could've given me this reaction when I was in pain, when I needed it but now…'

And Eric was out.

- 0.o.0.o.0 -

_Running, panting, he looked around, trying to catch his bearings. Being this deep in their jungle, this early, not a good thing. But what choice did he have? That damned automaton had pulled him through the brush, forcing him to teleport to safety, lest that Power Fist of his incapacitate him. Although safety may have been too optimistic of a term. He probed around his mana, grimacing as he realized his teleportation was still on cooldown. Those damned summoners! Limiting everything with cooldowns, in the interest of "fairness". He'd sweep this league if he was given free reign. But this was not the time to dwell on lofty issues such as this. He ran, only to stop, momentarily, as he saw the thick brush before him. Anything could be within its dark depths._

'_I could take the left, but then I'd have to take the loop around the blue golem, leaving me exposed for even longer.'_

'_**There's only one champion unseen right now. Although it is one of the champions that was in the top lane. Still, I would suggest you take the brush, meeting back up with your support is vital.**__'_

'_As you wish, summoner.'_

_ Readying his mana, he charged through the brush, only to get a face full of frost arrow. With a cry, he stepped back into the brush, teleporting back, only to get slammed with a yellow shield. He spun around, gasping, flanked by both champions. His support was still too far to help. He felt even more icy arrows collide with his back, dulling his senses, slowing his movements. Accepting his fate, he flung a ball of energy at the archer, throwing bolts of energy at her, helped along by the phantom dancer slung to his back._

_ As expected, he saw the archer twirl an arrow around, it growing larger and icier in her palms. She nocked it into her bow before firing it, the arrow thudding into his chest, the ice spreading until it encapsulated him completely, leaving him stunned and open. He felt the sword of the Radiant Dawn wail on his back, as arrow after arrow lanced him in the chest. _

_ '__**My apologies. It appears your concerns were valid.**__'_

_'True. Although you can't take all the blame, do you see how fast she reacted? It's definitely warded.'_

_ As if on cue, a yellow crown with a green flashing light appeared below his feet, only to slowly fade into nothingness. _

_ 'And it would run out a few seconds too late for me. Marvelous.'_

_ He felt his life force dwindle to nothing, as the last arrow hit him. He felt his body's natural responses of panic and fear, despite that he'd been through this process a thousand times. He chuckled morbidly as his heart stopped beating and he felt his soul rise to the ether…_

With a strangled cry, Eric sat up, breathing as if he'd just run a marathon. He panicked, looking around him.

White walls. White bed. Machines. Wires. Hospital. Ok, he was in a hospital. That was good, right?

Slowly, his breathing started to level out and the constant beeping of the HR monitor at his bedside dropped its frantic pace. He fumbled around his bed, until he found the call button and pressed it.

In a few minutes, a chirpy, young nurse popped her head into his room.

"Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Richardson?"

"Um…an explanation is all I really need right now." He said as he scratched his head, only to feel his stomach growl. "And some food…some food would be nice too." The nurse smiled and said

"Well, it's a strange story to be sure. We've been given a bunch of widely varying accounts on what made you fall unconscious, but they all agree that you had some sort of seizure, and managed to get your left hand burned pretty badly. At this point, it seems as if you were tasered by someone on the back of your hand and had a bad reaction to it. Although many of the eyewitness accounts claim you…well, lit up, for lack of a better te—"

"Bluish white light, right?" said Eric, cutting her off mid sentence. The nurse furrowed her eye brows and said

"Apparently. Although we think this may have just been a reaction by something inside of you, due to the taser. But your medical records don't indicate you've ever had anything placed inside of you, like a metallic plate or anything of that nature, besides dental fillings. Do you have any work that wouldn't be apparent on your medical records? Maybe something a bit more…shall we say, cost effective?"

Eric sardonically raised an eyebrow at her,

"Yes. You see, I was abducted last year, by these little green men—"

The nurse laughed and shook her head at him.

"Of course, anything strange, blame aliens. That's what we do nowadays. Anyway, regardless, you appear to be fine, and the burn on your hand has been treated, although it didn't need much at all. A very clean wound that. Strange shape too."

Looking down at his hand, Eric saw that a distinctive scar was left on his hand. It had perfect edges, as if the burn had been done with laser precision and it was in a curved sort of shape. Almost like a crescent moon. But not quite. He narrowed his eyes.

'I've seen this shape before. It's ringing bells. A lot of them. But I can't place it. Oh well, that's something to think of later.'

"—overnight for observation. Would that be acceptable?"

Eric glanced up at her, having missed most of what she'd said after highlighting his new scar, but from the words "overnight" and "observation", he could infer what she'd said.

"Nah, that's okay. I feel fine. Great even. I'd like to check out as soon as possible, actually. No need to waste more time and money by lying here, I've got things to do."

Shrugging, the nurse left the room. Eric took advantage of this time to change back into his clothes, which were at the foot of the bed. He looked sadly at his jacket. His pain driven actions to tear it open had broken the zipper, in a definitely unfixable way.

'Oh well, isn't it stylish for clothing to be in disrepair? Who knows, maybe I'll set a trend.' He thought, smirking as he put on the black jumper. He looked down at his scar, still puzzling over where he knew the shape from. Not to mention this entire ordeal itself. It wasn't everyday you get accosted by balls of light that appear INSIDE your body. As if that space wasn't already occupied.

The door opened and Eric turned, taking the forms the nurse handed him. He gave them a cursory glance, putting his pen to the signature line, before he backpedaled a bit.

"Um, excuse me; I think there's an error on this form. It says I have blue eyes. Now, I've had these old things for a decade or two, and I'm pretty sure they're brown. Light brown, maybe, but definitely not blue."

The nurse gave him a look as if to say 'do I look that stupid?' and turned him around to face the mirror on the far side of the room. Eric's eyes, his blue, luminescent blue (like the light, he thought absentmindedly) eyes, widened and he stepped towards the mirror, as if getting closer would make it any less real. He stroked below each eye, giving the skin around it a deeply exploratory stare.

'I don't see any surgical scars, but that could've been covered up with a few simple skin grafts, with a little Botox thrown in for good measure. But my eyes feel exactly the same. My slight near sightedness is still present, and they seem to be about the same size and shape. So either this is a REALLY good, clean transplant, or my eyes have decided they're feeling blue. Traitorous bastards.'

He felt a gentle prod and turned to face the nurse, who was smiling at him again.

"They really are very nice eyes. No need to lie about them."

Deciding to forgo the rigmarole, Eric shook his head a bit and signed the form,

"My apologies. I'm still a little addled. Nothing major, mind you, but I suppose I'm not quite used to the feeling of being tased."

Laughing softly, she took the form from him, and clipped it to her clipboard, collecting his chart from the foot of the bed.

"Well, Mr. Richardson, you are free to go. But please do return if you start feeling any unusual symptoms. You know nausea, dizziness, abdominal pains, things of that nature. And you have yourself a great day."

Eric thanked her and left the hospital, relieved to find that he hadn't been removed too far from campus. As he walked, he continued pondering his situation, rubbing the scar on the back of his hand. As he continued thinking and puzzling, he came back to the feeling of the light pulsating in his chest. It was strange. The pain, the initial pain, had hurt in a strange way. A way that couldn't really be put into words. The closest description he could think of was the "pain" of your hand getting too cold. It wasn't pain, in its usual sense, but it hurt.

As he delved further into his memory, reminiscing on the feeling, his scar started glowing softly, then brighter, until it flashed, startling Eric and causing him to trip. As he lay on the concrete, his scar continued glowing, softer this time. Looking at it, Eric was at a loss for how to explain what was going on. He was feeling it again. Not the pain, but the awareness, of that part of him. That part of him that had hurt when the light came.

'What am I freaking out about? It's just my mana stabilizing…whoa, what?"

For a moment, instinctive understanding had come over Eric, as if he knew exactly what this…thing was. As if it was simple and a part of him, like an arm or a leg. He pushed at this part, pulling and prodding, feeling it move within him. After a few seconds, an interface popped in front of him. Just…popped. Several flat screen monitors appeared in front of him, some displaying information, others displaying video, one even displaying a map of what appeared to be the city of Atlanta, his city.

He sat up and looked around, to see if anyone else was shocked by the appearance of blue streamline monitors into thin air. No one took note, although a few gave him a questioning glance, although it appeared to be due to /the fact that he was sitting on the sidewalk. He climbed to his feet, still very confused; He swung his arms at the interface, only for it to float out of range before coming back once his motion was complete.

Deciding to both keep walking and messing with the interface, he continued on his path, looking quite mental, seemingly fascinated by the air in front of him as he walked.

There was a screen with a human body laid out in silhouette. Right now, the entire body was a gentle blue color, the same color as the monitors. Below that lay four flashing icons. One was a ball of white light, the other resembled a mass of particles, the third one resembled an open rift of some sort and the final icon was a crescent, almost in the shape of Eric's new scar.

Another screen was much simpler, it had four zeros in sequence laid out, while another screen was displaying a video of a large brute of a man on a bench press, pushing weight that most people could never reach, let alone lift.

He was dark skinned, with a series of tattoos running across his torso and upper arms, which were bare. His hair was in a rather large afro and his dark brown eyes were narrowed in concentration as he continued pumping the weight. Glancing away, he focused on another screen. This one showed a girl, who had pale blonde hair that fell to the small of her back. This was all he could see, as her back was to him, although he did take note of the falling water…and the bare skin…

With a blush, Eric reached up, tapping the top of the screen, hoping it worked like a conventional computer. It did, and the video screen minimized to a small flashing node. Then Eric heard a horn sound loudly, and had to leap back, as a car swerved by him. He looked around, noting that it may NOT have been the smartest idea to roam the city of Atlanta with such a huge distraction, considering he'd just stepped straight onto an open intersection. Deciding to save more discoveries for when he got home, Eric looked at the interface, seeking a close or minimize button, but couldn't find one.

Acting on a whim, he put both hands into the air and made a swiping motion, as if he were trying to zoom out of a picture. The interface's screens stacked on top of each other before folding up into a cell phone sized object that fell into his waiting palm. Tucking it away, he continued walking, only to stop. Something was…different.

He looked around, up and down the street, unable to pick out what it was. Then he saw that, across the street, a new pawn shop had opened. It was wedged in between a bakery and a barber shop.

'That doesn't make any sense…there wasn't a gap there yesterday, and I didn't notice any kind of construction either…more strangeness to be sure.

. Checking for incoming cars this time, Eric dashed across the street, looking up at the building. It looked like any other pawn shop, although, for some reason it didn't have a proper title. There was just a large P on the top of the building. Walking inside, and hearing the bell above the door clink, Eric looked around, growing more and more confused.

The shop was…well, let's say cluttered would be an understatement. While that wasn't strange in and of itself, the contents of the clutter, on the other hand, were strange. On one rack up high were several pairs of boots, but they were the strangest boots he'd ever seen. While the first one was a simple brown pair, the next one was coated in what appeared to be gold colored metal. The next pair WAS made of metal, resembling ancient greaves as opposed to modern footwear. There was even a pair of boots with wings!

Looking to the right, he saw a jumble of strange items piled into a barrel labeled "Health". Ruby crystals, belts fit for a giant, pendants, there appeared to be no rhyme or reason to the grouping of items. On the wall above, there lay a cape that appeared to be on fire! Eric looked closely but the flames didn't grow out of control, or burn the cloth, they just continued flickering softly. A large set of armor, made of strange material sat next to the cape, glowing green.

"Welcome, welcome! It's good to see you again, explorer!" chirped a small voice. Eric looked around, seeing no one, but looked down and saw a dwarf of a man. He had a thick white beard, and eyebrows that were so bushy, his eyes were mere slits. He wore a little green tunic, with a cap on his head and a backpack over his shoulders. Eric looked down at the man, and said

"Um…I don't think we've ever met." The dwarf chuckled.

"Oh yes, we have. You just don't know it yet. Regardless, you have some gold to spend, don't you?"

"Uh….I have a chain, but I don't think…"

"Nonsense, follow me!"

Even more confused, Eric followed the little man to the counter, where a large, fat man sat. He had rather pink skin, and small eyes. A large tooth peeked out from his bottom lip and he had a large bulbous nose. He wore a black robe and sat staring at a vial in each hand, staring at each one in turn.

"Ork, Ork! You old codger, pull up the gold tab would you?"

Ork looked up from his vials, setting them down on the counter in front of him. He bared his tombstone teeth at the dwarf and, with a voice that sounded like rolling gravel, said

"Listen, you wretched imp, it's Orknesius, not Ork!"

Waving him off, the bearded man said

"Stop griping and pull up the tab."

Muttering to himself, the man reached into a nearby drawer, and pulled out a rolled up scroll. Opening it up and glancing down, he said

"Mr. Ezreal here has 603 gold to spend."

Eric's eyes widened, he felt like someone had hit a gong…in his soul, if that makes any sense.

"What…what did you call me?"

Ork looked up at him, raising one eyebrow. But Ork wasn't Ork. The fat ogre of a man had changed into an actual ogre, with pink skin and a warty nose. His white eyes narrowed and he said,

"I called you by your name, Mr. Ezreal. After all, that's who you are."

Again the gong, even louder, and Eric gasped as he took a step back. He felt that feeling again.

'_Your mana, that's what you're feeling. Well, MY mana but semantics aside…"_

Eric stumbled back and knocked over a pot, which shattered on the ground. Now turtle shells, glowing swords and pendants made of rock littered the floor around his feet. He looked to the side, straight into the polished silver face of a shield. Dark eyes that were not his own stared back at him. His face was now framed by short blond hair and he had a brown marking below each eye.

He wore brown belted slacks and had a series of belts running over his chest, capped off by the tan vest he wore. On his left hand, he wore a large glove with a glowing stone set in the middle of it, and had goggles perched on top of his head.

Looking down at himself, he saw the same slightly tanned hands he always had, but looked up again and still saw the blonde man as his reflection. Then "he" grinned.

'_BOO!'_ The reflection sprang into a pose, causing Eric to let out a decidedly unmanly shriek as he stumbled back even farther, into yet another pot. This one started to tip only to be caught by the little shopkeeper.

"Now, now, calm yourself. I can't have you breaking any more merchandise now, can I?"

Eric heard resounding laughter in his head and the voice spoke again

'_Relax, kid. The whole shock and awe thing's getting kind of old, although I have to say, that was hilarious. I chose you for a reason, just wrap your head around the idea that shit's getting weird and calm down._'

Eric was breathing hard, as if he'd just run a marathon and felt a tug on his jeans. He looked down at the little yordle – 'Yordle? What the fuck's a yordle?' – who was smiling at him.

"Well, what can we get you?"

Eric just looked at him, calming down but still lost beyond measure. He heard a sigh in his head and suddenly felt his mind going fuzzy, as if he'd wrapped himself in cloth, along with a strange sense of detachment.

'_Don't worry kid, I'll give it back in a sec. Just figured I'd get us out of here first.'_

Eric felt his arms move and his neck swivel, and heard his voice say

"Finally. It's good to be physical again. What's up Spec? I see you guys have shifted location; I like what you've done with the place. The walls were a nice touch."

Beaming, the yordle chuckled and said

"And it's good to see you as well, Mr. Ezreal. You appear to be in good health, relatively speaking of course.

"Eric" grinned and swaggered forward, kneeling down to be on Spec's level and put a hand on his head.

"Relatively is the perfect word for it, Spec. The perfect word. Now, can I get my usual? With a few extra mana pots in there?"

Spec frowned and glared at Eric, who felt his eyes roll.

"Ok fine, 3 mana pots. 3 extra mana pots would be lovely."

Smiling again, the shopkeeper said,

"You know the drill, Mr. Ezreal. After that debacle we had with Ms Couteau, and the ensuing debate over the meaning of the term "a couple" , we couldn't afford to continue accepting vague requests. Bad for business, not to mention the flak we got from the League."

Nodding, Eric watched as the yordle looked up and gestured to a pair of brown boots. With a pop, they rose from the shelf and down to his waiting hands. Handing them to Eric, he then went over to Ork, who was back to contemplating his potions.

"Ork, I need 3 reds and blues, up front!"

Ork lazily kicked the shelf behind him, and six test tube vials flew out of it to rest gently on the counter. Spec gathered them up and walked over to Eric, who was slipping on the boots over his feet. As they came on, they latched onto his present sneakers, rumbling and shifting, almost as if they were melting. The boots "leaked" into the more modern footware, merging with them, as if there had never been any boots to begin with.

Standing up, Eric took the vials from Spec, and thanked him.

"Thanks Spec. I'll be back, hopefully of my own will next time. See ya man. Be well. You too Ork!"

With a grumble – "It's Orknesius…" – the ogre waved him off and Eric left the shop, tucking the vials into his jacket pockets. As he stepped out, he looked around the city, smiling.

"A new place…this should be fun. Oh, almost forgot, here ya go kid."

Eric started to feel the cloth like feeling fade away and slowly he regained control of himself, flexing his hands and patting himself over, as if checking for residual damages.

'_Told you I'd handle it. Granted, I'm not sure what exactly we're in for, but at least we're geared up for it. Now, weren't you headed home?'_

Eric had gotten quite tired of being surprised, and it faded into quiet resignation.

'An explanation…would be nice. Very nice.'

With a laugh, Ezreal said

'_Fine. Although it's a rather long story, and I'm quite confused myself so don't be surprised if there…are…gaps….' _

Eric heard the voice stutter out, as it faded away. He reached out to it mentally, feeling the foreign consciousness retreat, until he couldn't sense him at all anymore. With a shrug, Eric continued on his way, until he stood in front of his apartment. As he walked up to the entrance, he felt an odd, crawling sensation on the back of his neck, as if he was in danger, or being watched. Turning, Eric looked around, until his eyes locked with the eyes of a girl on the other side of the street.

She had dark brown hair that fell to the small of her back and wore a white blouse, with the first few buttons undone. She had on a set of dark blue jeans

. Her face was rather pointed and regal, accented by a small tattoo she had on her left cheek.

Eric narrowed his eyes

'That's no tattoo; it's a scar, a very clean scar…like mine.'

To add on to the strangeness, the girl had bright blue eyes, the same color as Eric's new ones and they were currently alight with mirth. Shaping her hand into a gun, she pointed it at Eric and shot it, mouthing the word, 'Bang.' And then walked off in the opposite direction.

The cold, prickly feeling of danger Eric had didn't disappear until she was out of sight. Shaking himself, he turned back to his apartment and headed inside.

Throwing himself down onto his bed, he felt the stresses of the day build up into a feeling of exhaustion. Eric yawned and kicked off his shoes, but didn't bother with undressing fully. He lay there looking at the ceiling, thinking about the rather eventful day he'd had, then something occurred to him.

'Shit, I missed geography.' The thought caused him to laugh until the laugh slowly petered out, only to be replaced by the soft sighs of a restful sleep.

- 0.o.0.o.0 -

Opening his eyes, Eric found himself in a pub. It had a very antiquated look about it, lacking modern lights or conveniences, instead using things such as flame lit lamps for light. Looking around, Eric saw that the pub's occupants were even stranger. While there were a number of humans present, there was also a large amount of short, dwarf like creatures. There was even what looked to be a Minotaur seated at a table with an armored, long haired Asian, who had a lance resting across his knees. Refocusing his gaze, Eric noticed that, seated across from him, was the blond man he'd seen in his reflection earlier. He smirked, extended his hand and said,

"Well Eric, it's good to meet you face to face…in a manner of speaking."

Eric looked at the proffered hand before reaching out and shaking it firmly.

"Who are you?" The blonde man smiled and leaned forward.

"I'm Ezreal, the Prodigal Explorer. And Eric, have you ever heard of the world of Runeterra?"


	3. Nothing Can Hold Me Back!

Chapter 2: Nothing Can Hold Me Back!

Sitting at his dining room table, munching on a plate of bacon and eggs, Eric had expanded the interface again, and was looking it over, with a new appreciation. His late night rendezvous with Ezreal had turned up some interesting information. He was a champion, of some sort of "League", where he regularly fought on the Fields of Justice. But instead of him physically fighting there, instead, a sort of copy of his physical body was created, while his soul and magical abilities were summoned to the copy. This meant he could fight over and over and over again, with death being no obstacle.

'Seems kind of an exhausting way to live. But I suppose it is better than the massive amounts of magically enhanced war his world had suffered under for years. Not to mention the other benefits.' Thought Eric, as he looked at the map of Atlanta on his interface.

The map covered a fairly large area of Atlanta, and there was a blue dot over his apartment, pulsing softly. Eric assumed this indicated him, but then that left him at a loss, as he saw two other blue dots scattered across the city. One was on his campus, on the other side of it, located over one of the coed dorms there. The other was off in the nearby downtown area.

'I can only assume they are other people who were in the same group with Ezreal. If only he'd told me the identities of his teammates, maybe I'd have an easier time identifying them. It would be good to have others in this predicament with me.'

Ezreal explained that his consciousness and magic (called mana, apparently) were now merged with Eric's, similar to how it would merge with the copy of his body on the fields of justice. Only difference is THAT body didn't have a currently present soul and consciousness already. So this was a bit new to Ezreal. But he figured that this meant Eric could use his abilities as he normally would, although was at a loss on how to unlock them. That was the summoner's job. Apparently one of the costs of fighting in the League was a limiter placed upon all magical skills, meaning that synergy between the summoner and the champion was more important than ever.

'You're a smart kid, once you figure that out, THEN the real fun begins.' Was what Ezreal had told him before the pub had started fading away as Eric woke up. Eric shook his head, and looked at the flashing node. The one that, last he checked, had been a personal glimpse at a naked girl. He tossed the idea around in his head and surmised that there was no way she could STILL be in the shower. So therefore it was safe to open.

Tapping the node, it once again expanded into a screen, showing the same blonde girl. And Eric was right, she wasn't in the shower. Instead, she was on top of another girl, a red head, sucking and nibbling at her neck, while the red head threw her head back with her mouth open in what was undoubtedly a moan of ecstasy. They were both still clothed from the waist down but had shed their tops. Thankfully (or not, depending on your point of view) there was no accompanying audio.

As any healthy young man would, Eric watched for a few seconds, before noticing that, on the blonde girl's back, where her shoulder blades met, was a scar, of the same manner as his, although hers was shaped like a curved jagged blade, one that had been broken. Eric pondered this, before noticing that the blonde girl had started to work her way lower onto the other girl's body, groping at the waistband of her jeans.

Blushing even brighter, Eric minimized the screen once again, the node flashing as always, although it was flashing rather rapidly, as if reacting to the activity it contained.

'Who is she? And why can I view her through this thing? Maybe…that would make sense…And I suppose the girl I saw yesterday is also one of them…or us, I suppose. So are there really nine other human beings running around, with all this magical potential waiting to be unlocked? That could be bad...really bad…' thought Eric as he glanced at the other screen, the screen with the large dark skinned man.

He was sitting in a classroom, staring at a board, writing in a notebook. Eric squinted at the screen. That classroom looked familiar. Very familiar. Then Eric's eyes widened, realizing that he recognized the classroom because it was where he had his physics lectures in the previous semesters.

So this man went to Eric's school, probably a senior like himself, if not a grad student. That was good. He shouldn't be too hard to get in contact with then. All Eric had to do was catch a glimpse of something with his name on it through the screen, and then it was child's play from

Eric sat, watching the man as he continued writing. And writing. And writing.

After fifteen minutes of this, Eric grew frustrated, and his eyes left the screen, moving to the map. The map of Atlanta. The one with blinking blue dots that Eric was pretty sure showed their locations.

'For someone with an IQ of 174, I can really be dense at times.' Thought Eric as he sprang up, folding the interface into its travel size. Stepping out and locking his apartment, he set off at a brisk pace to the physics building. On the way there, he opened the interface again, looking at the dark man's screen, seeing that he was still writing, still in the physics lecture hall.

As he walked, the interface started beeping. He looked around, taking note of the fact that, just as no one could see it, no one could hear the odd otherworldly interface. He continued, the beeping increasing both in frequency and amplitude, and he had no idea what it was. As it reached its zenith, Eric rounded a corner, brushing shoulders with someone.

Suddenly, the prickling he'd felt on the back of his neck the night before was nothing. Every sense in his body screamed DANGER and he felt his pulse skyrocket, his muscles tense as adrenalin was sent through his system. Eric sprang away, putting his back to the nearest wall, an instinctive defensive motion, and he looked at the cause of his disturbance.

The person turned around, revealing the face of a pale teenager, probably a few years younger than Eric. Despite this, he was a head taller than Eric, with a scrawny figure and the gangly, awkward limbs of adolescence. He had straw colored hair that fell in limp trails down to his shoulders, and wore a brown leather duster that fell to the floor. Underneath, he wore a cream colored shirt with a set of plaid pants and boots. A large stone ring sat on his left hand, and it appeared to have some sort of blue luminescence about it.

The boy looked at Eric, with eyes of deep, glowing amethyst and grinned at Eric. Opening his mouth, his voice came out as a drawling, Australian rasp, as if he was quite parched, or had a throat made of straw.

"Well, hello there, mate. My apologies, it seemed as if I bumped you, you alright?"

Eric said nothing, looking at the teenager through narrowed eyes. His interface continued beeping and the blond looked at it, smiling, "Well, that's an interesting piece of work right there. Where'd ya get it?"

Eric was jolted, as he realized he was talking about the interface.

"You…you can see it?"

The blond boy smiled and said,

"Well of course I can. It's kind of hard to miss. Oh, my mistake, how rude of me. I haven't even introduced myself. My name is…" He looked thoughtful, as if deciding, before smirking. "…Istvaan. The name's Istvaan. Nice to meet you."

Eric looked down at the extended hand, still feeling a massive sense of distrust and general conflict. Inside, he felt his mana bubbling under the surface, disturbed and agitated, in line with his emotions. Cautiously, he extended his hand, grasping Istvaan's.

Eric felt a shock run through him, as their hands connected, and suddenly he didn't see Istvaan. He saw a skeletal looking creature that towered over him. It had an amorphous sack for a torso and long limbs made of brittle wood. Its head was an extension of the sack and it had burning emerald eyes set above an evil, devilish smirk. While its right hand was grasping Eric's, its left held a long, wicked looking scythe. Overall, the figure seemed to be childish, cartoon like, the product of some child's imagination. But it emitted a keening aura of fear and dread that had nothing childlike about it. And its gaze held nothing but dread and death.

Eric gasped and tried to pull his hand away, looking down and realizing it was once again Ezreal's. He looked up through new eyes and narrowed them.

"So it's you, Fiddlesticks. The scarecrow. Shoulda known. Get your sad excuse for a hand off of me."

Fiddlesticks cackled and only tightened his brittle grip. He leaned down and leered at Eric.

"It seems you're still playing nice with your host, Explorer. That must be really inconvenient for you, can't imagine you're used to being incorporeal for so long. I was barely corporeal to begin with, and I refused to let this weak fleshy being drag me down. I consumed him the second I was summoned here. After all, I have to do my part, as the Harbinger of Doom. And what better place to do it than this new world? One ripe with raw, unutilized magic?"

Eric gasped, looking at the straw figure.

"You're talking, you never talk!"

"What can I say? New world, new ways. I'm also quite excited. After all, it's not every day you get to live up to your name and lead an entire world to its doom."

Eric gritted his teeth and tried to pull away from the scarecrow but with a flash, he had been replaced with Istvaan's form once again. Eric started to feel his strength wane and he gasped, as he fell to his knees, losing the will to pull away. Istvaan grinned even wider as he continued draining Eric's strength. He stepped forward and bent down, putting his mouth close to Eric's ear.

"It's about time I get one up on the prodigal explorer. It seems first blood…belongs to me."

Eric started seeing spots, a sensation that was becoming all too familiar. He mentally screamed out,

'EZREAL! If ever there was a time for intervention, it's now!'

There was no response, other than his mana growing even more erratic. He waited desperately, but no response was forthcoming and his mana surged even more testily.

Eric struggled to hold on to consciousness as he felt his very life force being drained away and, suddenly, his mana flared up, filling his limbs with new energy. He held out his free left hand and the interface responded, coalescing under his palm, the screens stacking until they were before him, in a neat pile, with the silhouette screen on top.

He looked down in confusion at it, and saw that the silhouette, once a gently blue, was slowly being overtaken, having become yellow, with a rapidly growing red tint. He looked again at the flashing icons and it hit him. If he wasn't in mortal danger, he would have laughed at his missing such an obvious clue. He slammed his hand down, striking the first flashing icon, the ball of white light, and in response, he felt a power thrumming through his hand, seeing the outline of a large amulet embedded glove over it.

With a cry, Eric swung his hand towards Istvaan, a ball of bright light flaring out in response and slamming into the Aussie's chest, sending him stumbling back, his grip on Eric being lost. With the loss of contact, the clutching feeling of despair faded away, although Eric still felt very weak. He got to his feet woozily, stumbling back. Istvaan glared at Eric, snarling angrily.

"So it seems you have a bit of fight in you after all. I was almost disappointed you didn't struggle more, Ezreal." Istvaan held out his palms, wind surging around them, forming into two crescent blades that he held in each palm. He flung them at Eric, who moved sluggishly out of the way, only for the blades to curve, striking him in the chest. They shattered, as if made of glass, but Eric felt the impact, stumbling back further, gasping.

'Getting drained sucked way more, but those blades aren't exactly fun.'

Now, this was the point where, in the movies, the hero would feel a sudden burst of skill and power, and slay his foe, who had come to the battle stronger and more prepared than him, and who had let his own arrogance force him to toy with his foe, leading to his ultimate demise. This wasn't a movie. So Eric did the only logical thing. He bolted.

Eric heard Istvaan scream in frustration and soon heard the pounding of boots pursuing him. Still he ran, faster than he ever had in his life, feeling the shock of each step as he sprinted around the corner. He kept moving, surprised at his speed and looked down, seeing that his shoes had disappeared to be replaced by the boots Ezreal had bought him (them?) earlier. He heard Istvaan still in pursuit, but could tell he was moving slower, his angered pursuit growing quieter by the second.

Pumped by the near death experience, the run and the fact that he was going to live, Eric threw a quip over his shoulder,

"Boots and pots for the win, Fiddles! Boots and pots for the win!"

That reminded him; he had those potions Ezreal had bought earlier! He grinned, only for it to fall as he remembered that he'd left them on his kitchen counter. Suddenly, he felt a weight in his pocket, along with a tinkling noise, one associated with glass. Reaching in, he felt the test tubes and grinned wider.

'May not have been affiliated for long, but magic, I love you.'

Drawing a vial from his pocket, he downed the blue elixir and felt his mana surge in response, growing and replenishing itself. He grimaced.

'So blue for mana, red for health, makes sense.'

He drew out a red colored vial, downing it and throwing the container away, hearing it shatter. He felt the strength start to return to his body and the cold, chilling feeling that had permeated his body started to dissipate. Drawing up the screen, he saw the silhouette slowly start to lose—shit!

Eric's foot struck a curb and he went flying, rolling across the ground, falling in a heap. He scrambled up, seeing Istvaan smile as he approached, readying more blades of wind. Eric clenched his left fist, feeling the light – 'Mystic shot' – surge around his fist and he flung it out. Istvaan leaned, the projectile flying harmlessly past. Eric started stepping back, looking around and tried to throw another mystic shot, only to feel a strange lock on his power.

'Must be those cooldown things Ezreal was talking about, I can see why he hates them so.' Thought Eric, as he continued stepping back, while Istvaan continued stepping forward. He threw the blades of wind at Eric, who tried to dodge the blades again, only for them to curve, striking him in the back. He stumbled forward due to the impact and Istvaan's eyes flared green as he threw his arms out, in a spread eagled position.

A lancing beam of green flew out from his chest, attaching itself to Eric, who felt the drain start to overtake him again. He stepped back, swiping at the leash with his hands, only for them to pass through with no effect. He continued moving back though, as he felt the leash grow taut, and then snap, the drain effect passing. He flung his mystic shot at Istvaan, hitting him square in the jaw this time, snapping his head back, and causing him to take a step back.

He swung his neck back down eerily, cracking it to the side as he glared at Eric. Blood flowed from his split bottom lip and he grimaced.

"So you've grown a spine have you? Well, bring it then, map boy."

Despite his brief show of bravado, Eric felt his stomach sink and cold sweat on his brow. This was a new situation. A deadly situation. He was running half on instinct he didn't have a few days ago and half on instinct that was his right as a human being. He felt energized and primed, but nervous and scared. How was he supposed to fight this thing?

And Ezreal was no help. The explorer-turned-mental-presence was nowhere to be found and a peep hadn't been heard since their conversation in the dream pub. Eric focused on his left hand, but felt the lock again. However, his mana shifted, moving in a different way, and he flung his hand out, throwing a mass of lightning out and hitting Istvaan in the chest.

'So these are the unlimited attacks. Weaker than any skills, but still better than nothing.'

Eric flung more lightning at Istvaan, throwing it at him rapidly, causing Istvaan to step back as they thumped into his chest. He countered with his wind blades and Eric threw his lightning to meet them in mid-air, causing the attacks to cancel each other out. Eric stepped back, ready to beat another escape, but hit a wall.

Looking around, he saw that he'd backed himself into a corner. A building lay at his back, with more to the side, creating a sort of alley. The only way out was past Istvaan, who smiled menacingly as he saw Eric's predicament. He opened his mouth, no doubt ready to deliver more demeaning remarks, but was suddenly swept off of his feet as a large, dark mass collided with him, slamming him into the side of the building, cracking the stone and sending dust into the air.

Eric looked at the building as the dust settled to see Istvaan stunned and held against the wall by the man Eric had journeyed out to find in the first place.

He was wearing a blue button down shirt that we wore unbuttoned, revealing his bare chest. He had on dark black jeans that were frayed at the bottom, overlapping his boots. He had two curled scars on his chest and his bright blue eyes glanced over at Eric, who was grinning wryly at this unexpected development.

"Seemed like you could use a hand. Not to mention your eyes are blue like mine, and this guy just gives me the creeps."

Istvaan came to, groggily shaking his head. He looked at the man holding him in confusion, before glaring.

"You idiotic bovine. Get off of me."

Gripping Istvaan, the muscle bound man flung him down to the floor, causing him to roll over, towards Eric. He panted, struggling to his knees as he glared at the two young men. He felt so weak, and was sure that a few of his bones were broken from that collision with the wall. He got to his feet, wincing as he felt his bones protest in response.

'It's been so long…I'd forgotten of the fragility of the flesh…' thought Istvaan as he slowly stepped away from the two.

"It seems you got lucky, Ezreal. The cow stepped in to save your life. Regardless, I have nothing but time, you better watch yourself."

Istvaan continued stepping back, keeping his eye on them as they watched him retreat.

"I'm not sure if it's safe to just let him leave. He's very dangerous." Whispered Eric, as he stepped forward.

"Well, what do you want to do? Kill him? Call the police?" asked the black man.

Istvaan smirked at their indecision, and gave a mocking wave but before he could continue his exit, another person stepped into the alley. It was the girl Eric had seen before. She stepped calmly towards Istvaan, who had his back to her. She then thrust her hand out, grasping him by the back of his neck.

His eyes widened but before he could react, electricity started surging through this body, provoking an unearthly scream and a seizing fit. The girl's crackling hand stayed in position as Istvaan convulsed, until finally releasing him, letting his charred form fall to the floor. His amethyst eyes faded, to be replaced with vacant green eyes as he shakily drew breath.

Looking up at her, Istvaan gurgled something unintelligible and held his hand out, but then the last vestiges of life faded from his body, and his hand fell again.

Eric and the unnamed man looked on in shock at what had just occurred. The girl looked at them, smirking softly and said

"Thanks for doing all of the work. Sorry for kill stealing there, but it seems like you two weren't going to finish the job, so I was forced to step in."

Eric closed his mouth and looked at the girl, a hint of fear in his tone.

"You…you just killed a man! How could…how are you so laissez faire about this?"

Rolling her eyes, the girl said

"Relax; he'll come back, unfortunately."

Gesturing, she brought their attention to his body, which had started glowing white and it broke into streams of light that flew into the sky. Eric was even more confused now and the girl sighed, "You've gotten into contact with your champion, right?"

Not sure what this had to do with anything, Eric nodded, and the other man nodded as well.

"Well, essentially, our world is now a Field of Justice, unwillingly so. We've been given the pseudo-immortality that comes along with it as well. I'm assuming you two have been to the shop?"

Eric nodded while the dark skinned man shook his head.

"Well, for your sake, Mr…."

"Adam. The name's Adam."

"Right, Adam. The shop is that new pawn shop, over by Ms Marquet's bakery, on 10th and Williams. It also acts as our spawning area, for when we die, and for when we need to heal as well. As we progress and develop, the spawning time grows. But, as it were, this thing's just starting out, so our scarecrow friend should be back among the world of the living in a few hours."

"I'm assuming his spawn point is different than ours."

Nodding, the girl explained that, just as in the arena of Summoner's Rift, their spawn points were opposite to each other, with the enemy's point being a few blocks from theirs, on the opposite end of campus. Her words made Eric pause.

"So wait…you're telling me…"

"Looks like you catch on quick. Yes, this college campus is apparently our battlefield. It seems we're going to be stuck in pitched battle until this is done with."

"And how will we know when that is?" interjected Adam. "We don't have any nexuses or turrets, and those were what defined the end of a conflict, not to mention the recalling of the champions by the summoners. We can't really do that here."

"Well, I don't have all the answers; I think Ryze has done pretty well, with what he's given me so far."

Eric raised an eyebrow.

"Your champion is Ryze huh? Isn't he the purple tattooed one? Gotta say, the resemblance isn't exactly apparent."

"He's a mage. He went more for mental similarities and synergies, as opposed to physical ones. Although he did leave more than a few scars, let me tell you."

"Really? You seem pretty unscarred."

Smiling, she didn't address Eric's point and continued on.

"Well, I'm not sure what we do from here. We've been thrown into a conflict that has nothing to do with us, what do you think our next move should be?"

"Our?"

She tapped the side of her left eye,

"Well, we are on the same team. Like it or not. I think that means we should stick together. And work on finding the other two members of our little party."

Pulling out a cellphone, she tossed it into the air, where it expanded into the same kind of interface that Eric had. Grinning, he brought out his own and it folded out, merging with the girl's, to give a larger, more comprehensive view. Without a word Adam threw his out as well, making the display even larger.

Grouping around it, she pointed to the map

"As you can see, we are this cluster of blue dots. And you see that red skull, near us? It means we just killed an enemy at that location. Its presence also indicates that they haven't respawned yet."

"Sorry to cut in, but how do you know so much?" asked Adam.

"Ryze explained it all to me. He let himself into my dream a few days ago, and gave me a rundown on the inner workings and mechanics of this situation, the parts he was familiar with at least, and some educated guesses at the rest. Didn't get to explain much else, but did see fit to give me a basic description of his teammates."

"That's useful. I mostly got an overarching view of Runeterra, and what the League was, and the different champions involved, etc. We talked a lot about the land itself though; Runeterra seems to have some amazing places to explore."

"Getting distracted by the geography? I can see why Ezreal chose you."

"Alistar didn't really do much talking. He trained me in what he, and as a result, I could do. " said Adam.

"So we have practical experience, background knowledge and mechanics between the three of us. Seems to be a good mix. Now, as I was saying, we're the dots on the map. But there should be five of us. We can only see three dots though. My theory is that the other two haven't been fully summoned yet. They have been chosen though, as you can see here."

Dragging her hand over, she brought the video screen cluster to the center. As they were already there and present, the three of them were excluded from the video feed, leaving two large monitors of video running.

One held the girl Eric had compromisingly glimpsed before. She was writing down something on a notepad, and was wearing a uniform. Squinting, he saw that her nametag said 'Roxy' and her shirt had a cup of coffee with a bee over it on the crest. She had bright green eyes, which indicated that she was still normal, for now.

"Well, she works at the café at the student center, that much we can tell. I wonder when she's going to be summoned. Should we track her down?"

"I think that would be best. After all, don't you wish someone had been able to explain to you why you had a wrenching pain, complete with light show, in your chest?"

Eric gave her a half smile and a thought occurred to him then.

"If you're on my team, then why did I get a bad feeling from you last night? When I saw you in front of my apartment?"

She grinned wickedly and said,

"Well, I didn't know which champion you were. For all I knew, you could have been Swain, or Brand, or even Cho'gath. Regardless of team, I don't think any of those champions would be very friendly to anyone in this world, as they were free to do what they wanted, unbound by the League's usual rules. I couldn't be sure. So I established you as an enemy. Only today did I realize we're on the same team, and you're possessed by one of the champions that Ryze actually likes."

Eric nodded, choosing to say nothing and instead turn his head to the other screen, the one he'd not paid much attention to since arriving. This one worried him though.

It displayed a man, somewhere in his mid forties. He wore a plain flannel shirt, with straight pants and tennis shoes. He was filling out a form and handing it to a receptionist. The worrying factor was that this occurred at the local precinct. The girl sighed and said,

"Now this guy…he concerns me a bit. I didn't get to see why, but when I checked him out yesterday, he was sitting in a jail cell. I have no idea why or for how long he was there, but for all we know, he could've just finished a stint for anything from fraud to assault. We have no way of knowing, and I don't fancy someone with a criminal history possessing mystical powers."

"Well…maybe it was some sort of misunderstanding? Maybe he's an alright guy and was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?" suggested Eric.

"At this point, that's all we can hope for." Stated Adam solemnly as they all pondered the implications of someone with bad intentions having this kind of power.

"Well…if he becomes a problem, I guess we'll have no choice but to take him out." Said Adam.

"And when he respawns? What do we do then? Do we just keep taking him out, having to put him down every few days?" shot back the girl.

"I don't know, if Istvaan–" At their confused looks, he included "—Fiddlesticks. Well, Fiddlesticks' body, to be more precise. If he's any indication, we're about to have several problems of that nature running around. I mean, what do we do? Do we call the police?"

"How exactly would that call go? 'Sorry to bother you, but we're reasonably sure that, in the next few days, you're going to have several magical beings running around Atlanta, wreaking havoc and mayhem.' I don't think we'll be taken very seriously."

"Well, for now, I say we let things play out. At least until we have some sort of tangible evidence to present the authorities." Stated the girl as she walked off.

"Where are you going?" asked Eric, as she continued walking. A matrix of runes expanded below her feet and a blue glow started forming at the outer edges. As the glow crept inwards, her body started glowing as well.

"I'm headed to the shop. Got lots of first blood gold to spend. You guys should probably go and track down that girl; I'll meet up with you all later."

The blue glow was almost at her feet now, when Eric had one final thought.

"Wait! What's your name?"

With a laugh, the girl said,

"Wow, I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is—"

The blue glow hit her feet and she vanished in a bright flash of light. Adam chuckled.

"Well, that was cliché."

"You're telling me."

- 0.o.0.o.0 -

**Well, first A/N! How's everyone liking the story? It's a little plot bunny that's been hopping around my head for a bit, so I said might as well. Granted, I probably won't update quick enough for everyone's tastes, especially when college starts at the end of the fall semester. But I'll let it keep going as long as I have the inspiration. And it sounds corny, but reviews really do help. They motivate us authors, meaning the chapters come out faster, which is better for all! Also, there are a few in-game jokes so avid LOL players will get those. Anyway, see ya next time!**


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